The video cut off and Frank lifted the tablet to hand it back, saying, "Cleansing fire. He sounds like another wackadoo I heard on the news before."
"They all sound like that now," the soldier said. "I miss the days when it was just the regular old crazy people who thought aliens were getting all their jobs and food supplies. These terrorists are something else, though, and we've got to stop them before it gets worse."
He looked at the soldier's vest and said, "Is this what you do all the time? Hunt down terrorists?"
"No," he sighed. "Not yet anyway. For now, I put the cases together so other people can go hunt them down. Based on my findings, command can issue a capture/kill order on dangerous criminals."
"So who kills the bad guys?" Frank said. "Who are the ones who actually get to pull the trigger?"
"There are a few, but the group I want to get in is called Grendel Unit," the soldier said. "They're the baddest of the bad. They're the ones hunting the bastards that plan these kind of attacks."
"And how do you get into that?"
"I'm hoping it's by working as a Unification Investigator putting cases together until command finally approves the transfer. That's my plan, anyway. From what I hear, there's also a certain amount of kissing up to General Milner, the guy in charge of the unit."
"It sounds worth it if you get to kill those scum. I hope you get in."
"Roger that," the soldier said. He picked up the medical chart tablet sitting next to Frank's bed and said, "What about you? I saw you just graduated school with a Criminal Law degree. You going to be a lawyer or something?"
"Doctor," Frank said. "I want to be a doctor. I changed my mind. That's what my dad and I were fighting about."
The soldier looked at him over his chart and said, "A doctor? What made you change your mind?"
"I want to help people."
"You know, Unification is looking for officer candidates. They'll put you through better medical training than you can imagine, and you won't be some local doctor either. You can be a tactical medic. That's like a doctor who gets to do covert operations. Hell, I bet you'd get assigned to a special unit right out of the academy. In a few years, you might even make it to Grendel with me."
Frank looked up at the ceiling and said, "I'll have to think about it. I've got a lot on my mind right now."
"Sure, I get that," the solider said. "Anyway, that's all I need. Thanks for your time, and not that it helps any, but I'm sorry for your loss."
Frank nodded and said, "What's your name, again? Just in case, you know, I need somebody to call if I want more information about this tactical medic thing."
The soldier came around the side of the bed and stuck out his hand, "Vic Cojo. I hope you decide to do it, too, because when I make it to Grendel Unit, I'm going to need somebody to watch my back while we're out there killing every terrorist in the quadrant."
4. New Jack Hustler
Two years later, Frank Kelly was sitting in a classroom at the Unification Military Academy, looking at a naked man. The man had been standing there when the class walked in and neither acknowledged them or responded to questions. He seemed to have no awareness that he was naked, or that he was there, or of anything else. It was all he could do to just stand there at perfect attention, arms at his sides, staring straight forward.
After a minute of looking, Frank realized the man had not blinked or breathed.
Before he could alert the rest of his class, the instructor came hurrying in, carrying a black gear bag. He apologized for being late as he came around the front of the room and dropped the gear bag in front of the naked man, and said, "This is the HUGO 7, a fully anatomically correct bio-robotic training dummy."
Frank's eyes widened as he leaned forward to get a better look.
"The HUGO is almost perfect in terms of human design, down to its very hair fibers. The only difference is that if you examine the HUGO's blood under a microscope, you will not see any cellular activity," the instructor said. "It's my understanding they are working on that for next year's model. However, there is one slight difference between the HUGO and you and I."
The instructor reached into the gear bag and pulled out a thick, silver dagger, showing it to the class like a magician demonstrating that there was nothing up his sleeves. This was no trick, though. The instructor flipped the knife in the air and caught it upside down by the handle and with one, practiced spin, he turned and plunged the blade directly into the HUGO's heart.
The HUGO's face contorted in pain and it said, "Ow!" just before it clutched the knife handle with both hands and collapsed on the floor.
The instructor looked down at where the HUGO had fallen and said, "Restart training scenario."
The HUGO rose up off the ground and reached up to pull the knife out of its chest. It dropped the weapon on the table and resumed its pose, while the divided flesh of its stab wound molded back together and sealed shut.
"You can do anything to this device short of blow it up and it will reconfigure," the instructor said.
To demonstrate, he picked up the knife and sliced the HUGO across the stomach, opening a wide rend in the flesh to expose the squirming organs inside. The HUGO said, "Ow!" and reached down to clutch its wound, then collapsed to the floor.
"All right, it's not perfect as far as the 'Ow' thing goes, but it's as close as you'll get without being in the real situation," he said. He looked down at the HUGO and told it to restart the scenario again. The HUGO stood up and began scooping up any of its spilled insides and packed them back into its open stomach, holding the flaps shut until the skin sealed back into place.
"Are there any questions?" the instructor said.
Frank raised his hand, "That seems pretty realistic, sir."
"Like I said, the only difference between the HUGO and a real person is at the cellular level. That, and it doesn't need to eat, or create bodily fluids, or anything like that. Otherwise, it is a perfect simulation."
"Is that the only version they make currently?" Frank said.
"I believe so. Why?"
"I was hoping they made a female, sir. Some of the guys in here look pretty desperate to me." Frank looked around the class at his classmates as they rolled their eyes and he said, "In fact, some of them are looking at this HUGO in a strange way. I don't think you should let them near it."
The instructor held up a scoped assault rifle, a large knife, and one electrostatic grenade to show the small group of students left in Frank's class. This was their final test, and a grueling pace, injuries, grades, and just plain giving up, had whittled their numbers away like sniper's bullets. They were warned it would happen. Unification Tactical Medics were a rare breed for a reason. You needed the skill of a field surgeon and infantryman combined. Most just gave up and went back to their former assignments.
The instructor pointed at the three items and said, "This is what you have for this assignment. This is all you have for this assignment, so don't waste anything."
He then picked up a black bag with a shoulder strap and tapped the dark red cross stitched across the middle with the tip of his finger, "Most importantly, this is your badge of office. It is the universal sign of relief to all field operatives. When the good guys see this, it fills them with hope and relief. When the bad guys see it, you become an immediate target. This bag does not get captured by the enemy, do you understand? It does not leave your side. Many men and women have given their lives for it and you will treat it with the due respect."
The class barked, "Hooah," in response.
The cadets were standing in the hallway in front of a large door that lead to the simulation arena. It was the size of a small stadium, with glass windows built around the top of the room where various assessors could watch and evaluate the trainee's performance. This was the last thing they would have to do before graduation. Anyone who failed was removed from the program. Anyone who passed was getting an assignment to the next available unit.
The instructor looked at
them with pride and said, "I know you'll all do great. Now, which one of you maniacs wants to go first?"
Frank thrust his hand in the air.
The instructor handed him the rifle and grenade and then, finally, the medic bag. Frank slid his helmet and face shield on and adjusted the chin strap. His tactical vest was tight around his collar and waist, but it needed to be, depending on what the enemies were going to be throwing at him. He didn't need any liquid phosphorous pouring down the inside of his vest and chewing him apart from within. His instructor slapped him on the helmet and said, "Are you ready for your orders, Kelly?"
"Ready, sir!" Frank shouted.
"Your commanding officer has stopped responding to his radio and you suspect he is injured. Your ship's systems report enemy activity in the area and they are closing on his position. Go get your man!"
"Hooah!" Frank cried out as he raced head first into the arena. He stopped just as the doors slammed shut behind him, seeing nothing but swirling orange dust and smoke in front of him. He turned around to look back for the door he'd just come through, but it was already too obscured to see.
His heart hammered against his chest and he bent down as low as he could get, gripping the rifle in his hands so tightly the shoulder strap rings were rattling. He tried to breathe, telling himself he needed to take long, deep, breaths and hold them in his stomach as long as he could. He knew from his training that he could use his breathing to slow his heart down and keep himself calm. He told himself that the heavy clouds of dust and smoke were just effects meant immerse him in the scenario.
It's working, he thought. Consider me immersed.
He lifted his rifle and peered through the scope, hoping its optics would cut through the fog. It was useless. He couldn't see a damn thing. He checked the sides of the scope for any variable switches and found one, flipped it, and grinned slightly. The world inside the scope changed to a bright thermal image of dark yellow, with a few faint glimmers of red in the distance. Those glimmers were heat signatures, and were either his fallen commanding officer or his enemies. Frank crept forward with the rifle raised, trying to get a clearer picture, when a rifle blasted in the distance and a hot bolt of fire scored sizzled past the tip of his left elbow.
Frank cried out in pain and instinctively rolled sideways.
He looked down at the rifle's scope and saw that the thermal setting made the scope lens glow bright blue, a perfect signal to hostile forces of his exact position. Frank cut off the setting and looked down at his arm, seeing it was just a slight burn. He could keep fighting without addressing it. He thought about moving in the same direction where he'd seen the red signatures, then changed his mind.
Whoever shot me is still out there, and he's probably looking for me.
Frank set the rifle down on the ground where he'd been standing before and turned the scope on before scurrying to get out of the way. Several shots immediately rang out, sizzling through the air in the direction of the rifle. If Frank had been standing there, they would have punched him directly in the chest.
He kept low and waited, trying to keep his breathing steady. He saw two black shapes coming through the funnels of dust, making them both out to be human. They were holding older model rifles and dressed in ragtag suits of cobbled-together body armor.
Sapienists, Frank thought.
They were getting closer to the rifle's glowing blue lens and Frank reached down to the grenade on his belt, but decided the explosion would be too loud and draw too many reinforcements. He decided he needed something quieter and drew out the knife.
He watched both figures walk past him and he crept up behind them with the knife ready. He grabbed the closest one and plunged his knife's blade deep into its neck, hearing a familiar, "Ow!" before it collapsed to the ground.
The second HUGO unit spun around with its gun ready and Frank flung the knife into the exposed section of its vest just below the training dummy's chin. "Ow!" it said, just before it fell.
Frank snatched up his rifle and flicked on the scope, quickly scanning for more heat signatures. There weren't any. He switched the setting off and kept moving deeper into the smoke. The cut across his arm was red and stinging and sweat was leaking down his face and dripping off his chin, but he kept moving and he kept it together. With every deep breath and every second he stayed in the fight without losing, he kept it together.
He got down on the floor and pressed himself as flat as he could in order to raise the rifle and activate the thermal scope. No shots came. He swung the rifle around in a wide circle, just trying to quick scope the surrounding area and check for heat signatures. As he turned over to check to his right, he finally found one, and it was alone.
Frank clicked off the scope and pressed himself up, keeping to a low crouch as he made his way toward the place he'd seen the flash on his display. He kept the rifle tucked under his arm and his trigger finger flat against the gun's frame, ready to fire.
There was something several feet ahead of him, lying flat in the swirl of brightly-colored dust and smoke. As Frank inched toward it, he heard its voice softly repeating, "Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow."
He hurried forward and threw up his face shield to inspect his patient. It was a HUGO unit, dressed in a Unification soldier's uniform. Frank shook the thing's shoulders and said, "It's going to be all right, I'm here." He did a visual inspection of the injuries and winced. They were horrific. Both of the HUGO's legs had been blown off at the knees and it had suffered two laser shots to the chest.
Frank ripped open his medical kit and dug through the contents until he found two emergency compression bags. He fit each end of the bags over the unit's leg stumps and they constricted immediately around the wound, forming air tight seals that stopped the flow of blood and prevented any infections. Frank tore open the kit's left flap and ran his finger along the devices and packages there without having to look at them. He'd studied the kit so thoroughly that he knew its contents by touch. He found the jar of wound putty and pulled it free, twisting off the lid and scooping it out with his finger, before packing the putty into both of the HUGO's laser shots.
"There you go," Frank whispered reassuringly. "Now let's get you out of here."
He reached down and wrapped both of his hands around the unit's vest to pull him up and hoist him over his shoulder, when he saw them coming through the swirling mist.
It was a long line of HUGO units carrying rifles, their baggy, worn clothing and strangely-assembled armor rattling in the vortex of light and dust and smoke as they advanced. Frank cursed under his breath and grabbed his injured patient by the back of his collar and started to drag him backwards, trying to vanish into the cover of swirling fog.
It didn't work.
The Sapienist units turned toward him and kept coming. Frank flipped his medic kit back open and stuck his hand down to the very bottom, finding the thick tube secured there. It was his last piece of equipment, only meant to be used after every other option had been exhausted, and he had to wrench it free. "You're going for a ride, buddy," he told the injured HUGO.
He quickly twisted the lower half of the tube and it snapped open, releasing a length of black cable that was stronger than steel. Frank looped the cable under the front of the figure's Unification vest and hooked it back to the tube. Once it was fastened, he twisted the top and held his breath.
The end cap shot off and a heavy black balloon hissed and swelled to life, filling until it was larger than a beach ball and immediately began rising into the air. The balloon's material was thick and powerful enough to carry a single person.
"Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow…" the Unification HUGO unit said as the balloon dragged him up into the air, his ruined legs dangling and twitching over Frank's head for a moment, before it vanished into the strangely-colored mist.
The Sapienists were now close enough that Frank could see their faces and make out the multiple rifles aimed directly at him. The enemies were all the same. All of them, bearing the same creepy expression that
was even more menacing because it revealed no emotion. There were too many to outrun, Frank thought.
They'd shoot me down the moment I tried.
He looked into the air over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of his patient. The HUGO had safely floated away, vanishing into the foggy sky to wait until he was eventually picked up by a recovery craft. Or, left bouncing against the arena's ceiling rafters until they ended the scenario and let him down, Frank thought.
The enemy line had stopped in front of him, rifles raised, waiting for him to make a move. Frank did the only thing he could think of. He fumbled on his gear belt for a moment before he raised his hands and said, "I surrender."
There was a metal ring dangling from his thumb as he lifted his hands. The activated grenade on his belt started vibrating and humming, getting ready to explode. Frank took a deep breath as he walked toward the Sapienists, smiling the entire time.
5. You Can't Fade Me
Frank came to, slowly, in a hospital bed, rolling back and forth until he finally opened his eyes. He winced in the harsh sunlight pouring through the sickbay windows. He looked around at the room's blinking machines and ventilators and plasma dispensers and thought, "Another explosion has left me in yet another hospital bed. I've had about enough of waking up like this."
He pushed up on his elbows and looked down, visually inspecting himself to make sure all of his body parts were still there. He recalled a vivid dream where he'd activated the grenade and it had blown off both his legs. He remembered lying there on the arena floor, trying to pull the plastic compression bags over the remaining stumps like a man trying to put on his socks. There were body parts of dozens of HUGO training dummies scattered on the ground around him, a dozen severed heads all repeating "Owowowowowowowowowow" in unison.
Grendel Unit 2: Ignition Sequence Page 4